The Origins of the Pyro
by LeeTALY
Summary: The Pyro is a complete mystery, with no identifiable trait that allows us to see who the pyro really is. This is my Interpretation of the identity of Pyro and his backstory. Rated M for violence, and occasional trash talking. Critique is appreciat
1. The Ambush

1964, 18th June

Southern Vietnam,

The Forest was silent. Too silent for my taste.

I couldn't blame the birds though. It was the American government who killed every single living thing in this area. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but from the bits and pieces of American language I could understand, it was a chemical called "Agent Orange", which was sprayed all over the forest, using helicopters and aircraft.

Well, that would explain the gas masks every member of my platoon had to wear.

Our mission was to go through the forests, and clear out remaining Vietnamese guerillas. Being conscripted and all, this sort of job didn't appeal to me at all. The Vietnamese people had the grim determination which was shared my his father who fought the Japanese until his brutal execution. I just couldn't stop alluding the Americans to Japanese soldiers, and the Vietnamese to his country, Korea.

Right now, however, that didn't matter. My job was a search and destroy. Not a connect and weep. To strengthen my resolve, I bit my own tongue, and grabbed my shotgun firmly. It was a Winchester 1912 trench gun, donated by the Americans to the Koreans in favor for their newer, and more powerful, M16 rifles.

I was a veteran, and killed plenty of Viet Kongs with this shotgun, and more often than not, this shotgun was my only friend: Many fellow troopers were impaled by traps, or picked off by Vietnamese snipers. Truth be told, I was probably the most experienced out of all the soldiers present in his platoon: Even more so than his arrogant Lieutenant.

After around a 20 minutes march into the forest, the platoon was able to see two Viet Kongs. One of them were lying down, presumably dead. Another was on his knees, weeping. The platoon approached them, raised the guns, and aimed it to the weeping Viet Kong.

The Lieutenant shouted to the surviving Viet Kong to stand up, with his hands in the air.

Without any warning, the Lieutenant's leg was blown to pieces when he approached the Viet Kong: The Viet Kong was surrounded by Land Mines.

As the platoon's designated medic tried to approach the fallen Lieutenant, a sharp crack was heard, and instantaneously, the medic's jaws fell right off. He attempted to scream, but was quickly silenced with a shot to the head.

It was an ambush, and my platoon walked right through it.

The next man to die was the one with perhaps the most threat to the vietnamese soldiers: The man with the flame throwers. He was riddled with machine gun fire, even before he realized what was going on.

A bloody firefight ensued.

One by one, my fellow infantrymen fell to the quick bursts of the AK-47 and the semi auto carbines. I faked my death, and buried myself under the man with the flamethrower. His blood and guts oozed all over his body, and numbed my sense of fear.

Presumably without any officer to help them out, the recruits lost their will to fight, and attempted to run. Three of them were blown upon by mines, and the rest were quickly shot down. One of the soldiers still tried to escape with one of his leg riddled with splinters. His escape was in vain: the unlucky bastard on yet another booby trap. A wooden spike impaled his head, and that was that.

Eventually, the guns stopped firing, after the Viets realized that everyone was dead. The surviving ambushers all approached the bodies of my dead comrades, so that they can loot my Platoon's equipment, just like how flies were attracted to light.

I could hear the men speaking foreign languages, and saw them proceed to bayonet every single one of the bodies, to make sure everyone was dead. I knew that, if I continued to lie down in this mess, I would die without taking any of those bastards with me.

I slowly picked up the flame throwers, and waited for the moment in which the Vietnams approached me. Moments before one of the suckers was about to puncture my head, I pulled the trigger on the flamethrower. I rose from my dead comrade, and proceeded to burn the vietnamese soldiers.

As they were being burnt, I could see that they were in a state of terror. Their ability to stay in control were in shambles, and their aim was messy, not being able to hit me at such close range. Some tried to flee, as if a man rose back from the grave to kill them off (It wasn't strictly false, as that was exactly what I intended to do). All of those bastards were burnt to a crisp, their flesh smoking from all the heat, and their beautiful screams were echoing across the forest.

That was when I, Sergeant Dong Hwa, realized that I was the worst of them all: A psychopath who enjoyed smelling the scent of burning flesh, the melody of their screams, and sweet, sweet revenge.

...

As the bodies continued to burn, I heard a large, artificial humming sound from a distance. I looked up, and realized that a helicopter had come to either evacuate him, or spray more Agent Orange on the forest, and kill me off.

A ladder came down, along with a strange, middle-aged Yankee woman with grey hair, and flashy clothes of blue and red. A business man with a ski mask suddenly appeared right behind her, out of god damn thin air.

When the woman reached the ground, she spoke in a language I didn't understand. The bodyguard was quick to translate the foreign language to Korean.

"Sergeant Dong Hwa, we have seen your ability to fight against overwhelming odds, and I am impressed with your performance. I would like to ask you if you would want to work as a prestigious employee of the TF industry, instead of being a poor cannon fodder in this meaningless war."


	2. The Initiation

Chapter 2: Initiation

"TF Industry? What in the world is that?"

The man with the ski mask gazed at me, as if he couldn't believe my ignorance. He sighed, and decided to introduce me to what it was.

"Mon Ami, the TF industries is an international organization that has been active since the 1800s. This company has been controlling every event in the world since the 1850s, planting seeds of hatred and war. Whenever a war occurred, our company was there to sell quality weapons to both sides of any war. While great empires fell because of our influences, our company has grown to control the entire world."

"Do you mean ALL wars created over the years have been created by this company you speak of? Even the colonization of the Josun Empire?"

"Oui."

"THEN YOU ARE MY ENEMY! I WILL AVENGE MY FATHER'S DEATH! Burn like those Viet Kong!"

Moments before I was able to pull the trigger, the bodyguard disappeared into thin air. Before I knew it, the man was behind me, with a knife on my throat.

"Relax, mon ami. The invasion was bound to happen. Its just that, we sold the weapons to the Japanese. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, you shouldn't forget that we actively supported your independence, by giving the Americans the fundings for the Atom bomb. If anything, our company just excellerates the rate these hostilities happen, and make sure the war is done for as long as possible. Its all business."

When I heard what the bodyguard had to say, I realized that he spoke the unbiased truth. A truth that was supposed to be hidden from the masses. Instead of trying to resist, I allowed the bodyguard continue:

"You must understand. Your employment into to TF industries is not just another wet work that earns you good amount of cash. Non. It is a privilege, and you should be honored. By inviting you, my company is inviting your country to join us as a member of the Inner Circle. Not only will your family be well fed and educated, your membership will guarantee your nation's prosperity in the future. While your countrymen will never know about it, your short term betrayal will result in true independence from the west, It will allow your nation to have the power it has deserved for so, so long. Are you sure you want to try killing me, and forsake such an opportunity?"

The man's prose was surely convincing. I couldn't let go of the possibilities my nation and I would be getting from taking this job offer. The man had won me over to his corporation.

There was something I found disturbing. The Woman behind the spy did not say a thing after her greeting, and did nothing but stare at him, without even wincing an eye. I was sure that the things the smooth talking mercenary had said directly came from the woman behind him. I guessed that the woman wasn't someone to be trifled with, so I asked my questions to the mercenary.

"I am convinced that joining your company is for the best, but, why are you offering a humble soldier to do such work. In fact, what am I supposed to do?"

"We want you to join us as a member of a special group of soldiers, brought up for a special type of warfare. In two years, we will scrap all of the wars we have today. I know what you are going to ask us. You want to know why we would do such a thing, when we thrive on selling weapons to the military. The answer is simple. Large scale wars are hard to control, and more often than not, starts becoming unprofitable for the us after a few years.

We want a sustainable war, which allows US to be the ones who control are sick of the fact that war is so expensive, and forces countries to quit fighting after a few years. Even if the war lasts, say, a decade, our Industry is always hard pressed creating new hostilities.

Lastly we also wanted a war that was popular with the masses, and appeals to their blood thirsty appetite. We want this war to be televised among the upper echelons of the society, so that no protests are made of the wars.

The final census from our company shows that elite squads fighting among themselves is the best way to achieve this objective. We can see that you have what it takes to become a member of one of our pristine troops."

"But I am just a marine! Sure, I may have been on the frontline for five years now, and I proud to call myself a veteran of a gruesome war, but a spec-ops would perform much better than me."

"Don't be so negative my friend. The reason why we chose you as a member of the TF industries is simple. You surpass a large majority of the soldiers who have earned their position as commandos. But the reason which you really shine is something else. Do you know what it is?"

"What is it?"

"Your drive. Your bloodlust, and your ability to kill without letting your conscience restraining you. It would be extreme to call all of our soldiers as 'inhumane'. But all of them share the same drive as you. An trait which is not easily found even among the elites. See, I have been watching you fight the Viet Kong guerrillas ever since you got here. Today, the smile you had when you were burning the poor men was absolutely beautiful. It was an artwork. It would be lovely to work alongside you. Consider your choices carefully, as there won't be any second chances."

"Well, I have to say, I'm interested in joining your 'squad'. I will join you as soon as possible."

When that as said, the woman behind the mercenary smiled, and proceeded to walk back to the helicopters, and the mercenary quickly followed her, before leaving him one last message."

"Sergeant Dong Hwa, a helicopter will pick you up at the HQ tomorrow morning. I will see you then."

I had so many questions, but realized that those people were running out of time, and were ready to leave. I shouted one last question to the mercenary:

"What is your name, mercenary?"

"You do not need to know my name. However, people address me as the spy. You will as well, when we fight together in Dustbowl."


End file.
